


Find Yourself Again

by Transdodds



Category: Chicago Med
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canonical Character Death, Developing Relationship, Episode Tag: s04e19 Never Let You Go, Grief/Mourning, Love Confessions, M/M, Minor Character Death, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-04-06 00:57:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19052023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Transdodds/pseuds/Transdodds
Summary: What if when David went after Connor, he didn't wait for Connor to point out that he was needed alive? What if he shot first and asked questions later?





	1. Chapter One

Despite the fact that Connor was shorter than Will, he always seemed to take up a lot of space, with his broad shoulders and his self confident nature. Except now, lying in the hospital bed, he seemed so small, so pale, so fragile. Will couldn’t help but feel like he should have protected him more. Instead he had just waited in Lilys room, helpless, as David went after Connor. 

 

He remembered how the seconds had seemed to drag on instead like hours as he had waited. Then there had been a bang, the unmistakable sound of a gun being fired echoing through the ED and then screaming, sounding like it had been wrenched right out of someone's soul. He was pretty sure he could still hear that sound if he concentrated. Will had wanted to run out there and do something, anything. But Lily needed someone looking out for her, so all he could do was stand there and wait to see who had been injured. 

 

That had been the worst of it, the not knowing. Or so he had thought, until Natalie had come back supporting Connor, who was pressing already soaked gauze against his shoulder, face drawn tight. It was clear he was attempting to seem calm, but his set jaw and the way he was hissing in breath through his teeth gave the pain and panic away.

 

It had been only then, seeing Connor with blood staining his black scrubs, still barking out orders, and refusing any help for himself, that Will understood just how much Connor meant to him, the realization feeling like a punch in the gut. Even more painful was the fact that he couldn’t do anything to help, couldn’t say anything. He had to focus on the task at hand. Because Connor, always the hero, always the doctor, refused medical attention. Instead he stood slumped, against the wall as he instructed them. And there was no way Will was going to let Connors sacrifice be in vain. 

 

And then, when they had made the incision as Connor had instructed, there had been so much blood that Will had pushed Connor almost completely out of his mind, only focusing on him as he steered them through what to do. His instructions had helped, not just by telling them what to do, but his voice, it was something familiar, soothing. Something to hold onto throughout all the chaos. 

 

But then those words had begun to slur, and, as they finally got the bleeding under control there had been a soft sound and the slightest hint of a thump as Connor slid down against the wall. He was still with them, barely, his blinks getting slower and slower and his head slowly falling forward as he lost the strength to keep it up himself. Will had barely waited for Natalie to give him a small nod, telling him she had this under control, before he rushed towards him. 

 

Not that he had been able to do much, besides apply more pressure, pray and desperately try and keep Connor awake. He’d talked to him, pleaded with him, and said some things he wasn’t sure he wanted Connor to remember when he woke up. 

 

In fact it was a miracle that he would wake up at all. They’d rushed him to surgery the second they could but even then, the fact he was still alive was incredible. He wasn’t sure if Connor would agree, though, not when he heard what some of the surgeons had told Will. A small groan beside him slowly pulled Will out of his thoughts, and he turned his attention to the man lying beside him. 

 

The first thing Connor noticed was how bright it was, and as soon as he opened his eyes he quickly snapped them closed again. It took him a few seconds to realise that the light wasn’t the warm, natural light of the sun that he usually awoke to but, was instead coming from harsh, but familiar, fluorescent lights. He was still at the hospital. 

 

He thought back to what had happened, trying to figure out what had caused him to suddenly be the patient, the answer coming to him in jumbled bits and pieces. He remembered the gun, remembered the burning pain in his shoulder that had taken a split second for him to connect to the resounding crack that had sounded out, remembered shouting out that he was needed alive before he could be hit with a second bullet. And then his memory became weaker and weaker, all he could remember with certainty was that there had been blood. So much blood. 

 

As he looked around the room he noticed someone sitting next to his bed. His chest started to feel warm when he realised that it was Will who was sitting with him, watching over him, making sure he was okay. One thing he could remember was the panic in Wills face when he had found out Connor was injured. And Will had also said something to him, something important, but the exact words felt just out of reach, and every time he grabbed for them they seemed further away. So, he instead decided to focus on another important issue. 

 

“Lily?” he tried to ask, but all that came out was a hoarse noise followed by a pained moan. Will hurried to grab some water, but held off on calling a nurse, some selfish part of him wanting to spend some time alone with Connor. Connor drank up the water greedily, its coolness soothing the rough pain in his throat. Feeling much more refreshed and aware after he had chugged down the water, it was only when the cup was moved away that he realised Will had been holding it for him. 

 

He tried to remember everything he had learned about the anatomy of the shoulder all those years ago in med school, but panic at the possibilities just made it harder to concentrate. So taking a deep breath he asked Will “Will I be able to be a surgeon again?” 

 

Will suddenly started avoiding eye contact and in a more frantic tone Connor asked again “My arm? Will I be able to operate again?”

 

“I should really get the doctor to talk to you about this” Will said, still resolutely not looking Connor in the eyes. 

 

“I didn’t ask the doctor, I asked you.” then quieter Connor added “I want to be prepared when they tell me”. Connor knew he was often a topic of gossip in the hospital, and with things like his flashy car he didn’t exactly discourage that. But if what he feared was true, he didn’t want everyone knowing about his reaction. He didn’t want it to become yet one more story about Dr. Rhodes. So he had to pretend to be strong when he was told, and he just couldn’t manage it. But he trusted Will not to go telling everyone, trusted him to help him through it as well. 

 

“They focused mostly on fixing the arteries, you had lost a lot of blood and they needed to act fast-”

 

“Just tell me” Connor said, cutting off Wills attempts to stall. 

 

“They managed to fix a lot of the nerve damage, and with physical therapy-”

 

“Will, please” Connor pleaded.

 

“You know what I’m going to say” 

 

“I still need to hear you say it” 

 

Will nodded slowly, taking a deep breath and seeming to gather his strength before saying “With physical therapy you’ll regain some use of the arm but-”

 

“It won’t ever be the same, right? I won’t ever regain full control”

 

“Connor, I’m sorry”

 

“Guess that’s what I get for trying to save my dad, he never really liked me going off to be a surgeon. Seems like everything is turning out the way he wants it to” 

 

“You also saved Lily. And the baby. We couldn’t have managed it without you, Connor”

 

Connor didn’t say anything in response to that, sure he was meant to feel something, some sense of relief or achievement, or anything. But nothing could make it through the wall of sadness and grief that had formed around his heart, and he was so certain that that was going to be the only thing he would feel from now on. 

 

“What am I meant to do now?”

 

“Focus on recovery” 

 

Connor huffed out the smallest of laughs, part of him even wondered what the point would be if it would still never be the same. It would never be enough. “And after that?”

 

“I’m sure the hospital will arrange a retirement package, and you have your own money” Will said, sounding unsure in his answer, seeming to already know that Connor would reject it. If not working was an option he could accept he would probably already be doing it. 

 

“I can’t just do nothing. My grandfather once said to me that I had to be better, work harder, than everyone else if I didn’t want the money to affect me. If I didn’t want to become my dad. I’m never taking that chance. I have to be able to do something” Connor said, a hint of panic in his voice as his words came out faster and faster. 

 

“You can still be a cardiologist you just won’t be a surgeon. You’ll still be helping people. Or you could go into teaching-”

 

Connor gave another humourless laugh at that. “I guess I really would be fulfilling the idea that those who can’t do, teach” After a pause he added “I don’t mean to shoot down everything but, I can’t not be a surgeon anymore. That’s who I am, Doctor Rhodes, Cardiothoracic surgeon, that’s who I am. Take that away and I’m nothing. Nobody”

 

“That’s not true, and you know it. Or at least you should.”

 

“Really? Can you really say one good thing about me that isn’t connected to my work. You don’t have to pretend, Will. I know what you think of me. I know you just think I’m a rich kid who’s never had to face the real world.”

 

“That’s not… okay maybe that was true in the beginning. But you’re so much more than that, Connor. Even if you can’t be a surgeon anymore, that doesn’t take away everything that made you want to be one. You’re still hardworking, and smart, and compassionate” 

 

Connor wasn’t really listening to Will, it all felt like false platitudes. But even if he wasn’t hearing the words, he heard the tone: soft and gentle and heartfelt. And it was a tone he remembered, a tone Will had used when he had talked to him, before, back when he was bleeding out and life seemed even more uncertain than it did now. And slowly the memories started coming back to him, the things Will had said, the pleading in his voice, the panic, and, while Connor didn’t want to use this term, so sure it was just his imagination, there was love there as well. 

 

“You said you had to tell me something” Connor said, cutting Will off. He was met with confusion, which turned into dawning realisation. 

 

“You remembered” 

 

“It sounded like it was important”

 

“It was” Will said, with a small, nervous laugh. 

 

“Well?” Connor urged, giving a small smile in encouragement, but also in anticipation of what Will would say. 

 

“I wanted to tell you how angry I was, that you played the hero, that you got yourself shot. That you wouldn’t let us help you until it was too late.” Will said, partly because he was stalling, worried about what would happen when he told Connor everything he had been scared he’d never get the chance to. But also, he had been angry, still was, and he had to get it off his chest. “You almost died Connor! Your heart stopped.  We got you back but, don’t ever do that again. Promise me”

 

“I promise” Connor said, slightly taken aback by the sheer pain in Wills voice. It was strange to think of someone caring that much and that deeply about him, and he wasn’t sure how to react except to promise that he would never hurt Will like that. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he did. 

 

“Good.” Will said, before taking a deep breath to steady himself. He couldn’t keep stalling any longer. “Because I can’t lose you, because I like you, Connor, a lot. And I know you need to focus on recovery right now and that relationships is the last thing on your mind but-”

 

Will was cut off by Connor grabbing him with his good arm, having first tried to use his right arm and having to a take a few moments after he couldn’t lift it no matter how hard he tried. But at least now he had Wills attention. And he was trying not to think about that loss, no matter how much it hurt. He knew he had to get past it, eventually. He might as well start trying to now. 

 

“I like you too. And I know focusing on recovery is important, and so is finding out who I am outside of this career. But I’d like to do it with you there, at my side. If that’s what you want.” Connor said, tilting his head slightly and giving a small smile. 

 

“I’ll be there for you Connor. Always” Will said in reply, taking Connors good hand in his and giving it a small squeeze before going to get a nurse. 

  
  
  



	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has been a few days since the incident, and Connor is slowly starting to see that a future still exists. A future that is not just for him, but could be for Will too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for everyone who said they would be interested in seeing this turn into a bigger fic. Your support literally means the world to me!!

Connor was frustrated. He knew he should be looking on the bright side of things: he was still alive, he had saved Lily and the baby, he had saved his father, they’d managed to save the arm. But that was harder to do in practice, when he was stuck in physical therapy sweating from the exhaustion of lifting a 5g weight.

 He knew it was progress, the overly peppy physical therapist making an effort to remind him of that fact multiple times. But it didn’t seem to matter right now. It didn’t matter that a week ago he had been struggling to just bend and outstretch his arm, didn’t matter that the simple fact he could hold the weight was an achievement. Because right now all he could focus on was the fact that the tiny, plastic bar in his hand felt like the heaviest thing in the world. 

That is until he noticed a familiar flash of fiery hair in the corner of his eye, and he had a slightly better thing to focus on. Will. And while he knew he had to be focused on recovery from himself, having Will there helped him finish up the last of the exercise, because the sooner he was done the sooner he could get to lunch with Will. The lunches had become a bit of a habit between the two of them, and had quickly become the brightest moment of Connors day. He wouldn’t go as far as calling them dates, he still wanted to keep things slow with Will, and in many ways not much had really changed between them. They still talked and laughed together, the only change was that they argued less. But even if they weren’t dates, that didn’t stop the way his heart always flipped when he saw Will there waiting, leaned against the door, shoulders slightly hunched and long legs bent. 

“Hey” Connor said, giving Will a soft kiss, pulling away just before Will could try and deepen it. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, he did, desperately. But so much in his life was changing. He needed something stable with Will. All his other relationships had fallen apart, and before that point they had all twisted to become something that had made him miserable. He just didn’t want to risk that happening with Will. Will didn’t seem to mind that much though, just taking Connors good hand in his, and walking with him to the cafeteria.

“How’s it going?” Will asked, taking in Connors slightly sweaty form and pushing down the residual guilt that was trickling up the back of his throat. He had spent too long feeling bad or wrong, spent too many evenings praying to be fixed. He refused to feel that way again.

“Slow.” Connor said with a small sigh that made Will almost regret bringing the topic up. Almost. 

“But you’re going to be okay to go home today?” Will asked as he pushed open the door to the cafeteria, letting Connor pass.

“Hopefully. All I know is that I can’t stay here any longer. Trust me, I practically lived here when I was studying with Downey, and that wasn’t anywhere close to as bad as this. At least then I had something to do” Connor said, and it could have been played off as a joke if not for his tone being as bitter and dry as expensive gin. 

Will just nodded, uncertain of exactly what to say. He doubted there was anything that one could really say to someone who had lost their entire identity. In witness protection when he couldn’t be a doctor, couldn’t help people, that had been torture. But at least there had been a hope that would end. Connor didn’t have that. At least not yet. Will hoped that soon Connor would find something else that would set his soul alight, that would give him guidance, direction, purpose

“Have you thought about that? About what you want to do?” Will asked, about to grab a second tray for Connor like he usually did when he saw Connor had already got one himself with his good arm. It was good to know that Connor was finding ways to look after himself, but a part of Will couldn’t help but feel worried that as soon as Connor realised he didn’t need Will then whatever they had between them would end.

 “I know I should, but there really hasn’t ever been a plan B. I mean, even deciding to move from trauma to cardio was hard. Making the switch away from surgery completely, it still seems impossible” 

“Really, even as a kid? Nothing else you wanted to be?” Will asked, raising his eyebrows slightly. Because while he definitely understood Connors attachment to being a surgeon, he had had different ideas when he was much younger. Had briefly considered being a priest, and then a cop like his brother, before settling into a doctor. Surely Connor must have had some other idea of who he wanted to be as an adult. 

“Well, I did want to be a pirate for a bit, so there always is that option”

“Really!” Will said unable to hold back a laugh at the idea of young Connor, dressing up with an eyepatch, probably with a plastic sword, and pretending to be a pirate. Connor mirrored the smile, and it was one of the more genuine ones, his eyes crinkling and his nose scrunching up slightly.

“Yeah! I liked the idea of being an adventurer. Also, parrots are cool”

“You could still get a parrot, just talk to Ethan" 

Connor tilted his head to the side slightly with a smile and an amused huff of breath. “Well, good to know the dream of pirate isn’t actually too far off. And it’s not quite a hook, but what i’ve got going on is close”

Will gave a surprised laugh, his heart swelling at the fact that Connor was making jokes about the situation. He had before, a few times, but they had all been bitter, slightly sarcastic. This one, which Connor said with a twinkle in his sky blue eyes just seemed to be trying to make the best out of the situation. Which really was all they could hope for.

“Or I could just go on talk shows as an ‘inspiring story’” Connor said, doing air quotes with one hand, and the bitterness was seeping back into his voice. “I got a phone call this morning from a magazine, one of the usual tabloids who probably couldn’t believe their luck that they had an actual story on their hands. Well, depends what you call an actual story" Connor said, with a small shrug. 

“I’m, I’m sorry Connor” Will said, slightly taken aback at how quickly Connors mood had changed and not sure exactly what to say. He knew he often joked and Connor and him might have both lived in Chicago, but they had grown up in different worlds. It had never felt as true as it did now.

“It’s fine, it’s not like I died.” Connor said, tone dry and with a humorless smile and another small roll of his shoulders. “They’ll probably get bored within a month, when some other rich kid checks into rehab or does something stupid that they have to issue an apology for. One phone calls not that bad anyways, you should have seen what it was like after… after mom. Although, it will probably get worse once I’m out of the hospital and they can start trying to get photos of me, I don’t know, struggling with one arm at the grocery store”

“I can get your groceries. I mean, I know that’s not the issue here, but if you do need any help I’m here” Will offered, because at least there was one way he could help, one concrete thing he could do to at least try and somewhat ease the pain evident in Connors strained voice 

“Thanks, that’s kind of you” Connor said after a beat, having managed to somewhat hide the pain and stress in his voice even if it hadn't left him. 

“I can also come home with you, when you’re discharged. Just to help you settle back in, I can even stay for a bit if you want?” Will offered, and Connor shifted slightly uncomfortable and Will hurried to try and rectify his mistake. He knew he had been trying to move things to fast, especially after they had agreed things had to go slow. And he knew it would be for the best, but sometimes his impatience got the better of him. “Sorry, I know you wanted to take things slow.”

“Right, exactly. I just feel too many changes now, it won’t be good. And I don’t want our relationship to just be based around you taking care of me." Connor said, his mind briefly filled with memories of Robin. "But… if you want to come round tonight, we can watch a movie. After all, it would be good to spend some time together outside of the hospital”

“That sound nice” Will said with a small grin.

And it was. Not only was it nice, but it felt almost normal, Connor thought. Sitting on the couch, eating pizza, it could be almost any evening, as long as he ignored the fact that he had to keep reminding himself not to reach with his bad hand. Not because he doubted he would manage it, he was sure he could, but it would be clumsy and he didn’t want Will to see him struggle like that. And he didn’t like being reminded that no matter how hard he had tried, he still had so far to go. And even then he would never be the same. He would never get back the life he had had. 

But before he could fall too deep into the pit of despair Will shifted closer to him, leaning against Connors chest. And as he did, he looked over at Connor, with a soft smile on his face, and it made Connor realise that while he would never get back the past, the future didn’t seem all that bad.

He had Will here with him, after years of tension building between them, they were together. And while Connor wanted things slow so he didn’t destroy what he finally got, he was happy that they had gotten this far. It felt right. And then there was work, and while it pained him to know he would never again be in the OR, at least not as a doctor, he had had a lot of time to think about options. It had been a text message that had got him thinking about an option that actually seemed promising. Just a message from Sarah Reese, saying she had heard what had happened and saying she was there to talk if Connor needed to. It had got him thinking, that while he had dismissed the idea when Will had first brought it up, teaching didn’t seem that awful an idea. After all, he had had a good time helping Reese learn, it had been rewarding seeing her gain confidence at least partly because of things he said. And it would be a way to keep one of the things he liked the most about being a surgeon, which was being able to help shape people's lives for the better, to really make a difference, to do something good to prove that he wasn’t the shallow man he had the money to be. Being a teacher, it didn’t seem all that bad.

Really, the future as a whole didn’t seem that bad. At least not that evening, in his apartment with Will, when the most difficult problem seemed to be working out who would have the last slice of pizza and every other outside trouble remained locked outside the front door. Kept away, at least for that night, and for the first time since the incident Connor was able to fall asleep peacefully, lying on the couch, with Will by his side.

 


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Wills relationship is going well, the paparazzi are staying away and Connor has found a new direction for his future. Life feels almost too good to be true.

The morning after Connor and Wills date at Connors apartment hadn’t been nearly as awkward as Connor had feared it would be. He had been woken up early by a shooting pain in his arm and was disoriented for a while, not used to being back at home, and confused as to why he was on the sofa instead of in his bed. 

And then he felt Will shift, moving for a second before settling again, his head resting gently on Connors chest. Connor forced himself to take a few deep breaths. It would be fine. Will would wake up soon, he would have to go to work, and then they could just pretend that nothing had happened. And after rummaging for his pills and taking a few for the pain Connor fell back asleep, managing to convince himself that they would be able to keep the slow pace of their relationship even after this.

They didn’t. After a few more hours of sleep Connor woke up to the smell of coffee, and Will appeared holding two mugs and looking slightly sheepish, shifting as if he was just waiting to be tossed out the door. And what was Connor going to do, not accept the coffee he was being offered? Coffee that was made with so much sugar it was just on the right side of sickeningly sweet. It made his chest feel warm to know that Will had obviously taken note of how he liked his coffee.

And then they had made breakfast together, and Will had gone to the hospital, Connor giving him a kiss before he left. And it felt good, normal. The kind of normal Connor felt the need to cling to amongst the chaos of what had happened. And it felt so far removed from the problems of the outside world, felt like they had built their own bubble of domesticity. A place where they could be happy and safe and they would manage to survive no matter what.

So Connor texted Will asking if he wanted to meet up again that evening, before sending another text to Reese asking to meet for coffee. He wanted to see if she would agree with his plan to become a teacher.

As Connor sat waiting in the cafe for Sarah to turn up, he kept his head down, scrolling on his phone although he wasn’t really taking in the information on the screen. He knew that if there were people with cameras they would probably still try and get a photo, but he was doing his best. And hopefully no one would care. That was what he kept trying to convince himself. He wasn’t even involved in Dolan Rhodes anymore, he was as much of a nobody as he could be. Of course, there had been that magazine article about him as a doctor, but that had come out almost a year ago. Surely, no one would care about him any more. 

Either way he was grateful when Reese appeared, if only so he could get himself out of his head. And he had missed her, even if he understood why she left. They had got on well, and in many ways he had seen her as a younger sister, but one who didn’t hate him, one who actually talked to him. 

“Hey!” Connor said, getting out of his seat as he caught sight of the familiar mess of light brown curls, pulling Sarah into a tight, one armed hug. “How are you, how is the residency going?” he asked once they were both sat down again. 

“It’s going alright, I’m fitting in well. It’s nice, calm.” Sarah said, nodding her head slightly as she spoke. “How are you holding up?”

Connor was about to answer with the usual ‘I’m fine’ that he had given to everyone who had asked, but something stopped him. Maybe it was because Reese was training in psychiatry and he felt that maybe it would be good to talk to someone who would maybe be able to help him. Maybe he was just tired of constantly uttering out the same damn lie.

“I’m doing okay. Better than I imagined I would be doing a week ago. It’s been hard, though, learning I won’t ever be a surgeon again.”

“I heard, I’m sorry Connor. I know how hard it is to suddenly realise your life plan doesn’t fit anymore. Not that I’m comparing our two situations. At all” Reese added hurriedly. 

“I understand, and thank you. And really, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Because I was thinking about maybe going into teaching, and well you were one of my students a few times. Is it an awful idea?”

Reese gave Connor a small but genuine smile and most of the doubts that he was completely crazy thinking this was a good idea disappeared before she even started speaking.

“You’ll be great. Really. I remember we had barely even met and you were already reassuring me when I was struggling with the 

“Central line, yeah I remember” Connor said mirroring Reese’s smile, his mind briefly flicking back to that moment all those years ago when life seemed simpler. Better. He doubted that was the way it actually had been, but it certainly felt like life had been so much easier back then. 

“It was helpful. Really. You’re going to be a great teacher Connor. And it’s good that you’re focusing on looking forward” Reese said, and Connor could tell that at least part of her statement was her being a psych as well as a friend. Not that he minded. Much.

The rest of the meeting went in much the same fashion, both of them swapping memories and laughing and Connor was glad he had made the effort to reach out to her. Not just because she had reassured him that maybe he had finally found a second future. It was also nice to just talk to someone and act like nothing had happened. Because while Reese was obviously concerned about him, she didn’t force him to constantly think about his arm. It was nice to not worry about the future, or his arm or the press and to just laugh instead. 

The rest of the week progressed as smoothly as one could expect. Connor spent the time talking to old teachers, anyone who could give him some guidance, and by the end of the week he was certain that this really was the right path for him. Things with Will were also going better than he had expected. The meals in front of the tv became a regular thing, taking the place of their lunches. Will had even cooked on a few occasions and Connor had made a few of his easier dishes. And they had also managed to move away from the sofa to falling asleep in each others arms in Connors bed. And for all his fears and worries, things seemed to be peaceful and happy for now. It felt almost stupid to worry.

And after everything that was happening with his father, he was convinced that he was just being overly paranoid about so many things. He had jumped to some conclusions when it came to his dad having to return to the hospital, so sure it was connected to Ava. And so angry, because he had given up everything for his father. If Ava tried to make that sacrifice meaningless he wasn’t sure what he would do.

He’d been ready to storm into the hospital and confront her himself. That is until Will told him it had come out that it had simply been faulty equipment used. And he couldn’t help but feel that maybe he was being overly anxious, the shooting making him way too worried. He was concerned constantly about the paparazzi, and while there had been a few small stories but nothing big. Just some speculation about him and Reese, a blurry picture someone took at their meeting. Of course his arm had been mentioned, but it hadn’t been the storm he had been expecting.

Of course, trying to stop worrying about everything was easier said then done, but he was determined to do it. If only for one day. It was his birthday, after all. He deserved to relax. To just be happy.

Will had to work during Connors birthday, but he’d planned a small dinner at the apartment after the shift. It wasn’t anything major, just a few friends from work to come and celebrate both Connors birthday and his recovery. Because while he wasn’t at the end of the road, he was making his way towards it and Will couldn’t be more proud. Ever since his conversation with Reese he had seemed more energetic, motivated, acting like he finally had a goal in mind. And that in itself seemed worthy of the small gathering at the apartment.

It wasn’t a lot of people: Robin, Reese, Maggie, April and Nat. But Will could still hear the slightly muffled noise of chatter from outside the front door, the noise becoming clearer when Connor opened the door, a wide smile on his face. He hadn’t been sure if Connor was going to greet him like a friend, or with the usual kiss, and his heart couldn’t help but do a flip when his question was answered and Connor leaned in, gently pressing his lips against Wills.

“Thank you for doing this” Connor said, taking Wills hand in his as they walked into the kitchen, which had always been slightly small, most of the space taken up by the granite island in the middle, and now seemed packed with people. Not that Will minded. In fact it was nice to see the apartment feel alive, and it was even better seeing the way Connor seemed to relish in it.

“You did most of the work” Will replied, brushing off Connors thanks. Because it was true, while Will had made sure everyone knew when and where to turn up and had bought a cake, Connor had cooked the rest of the food, despite Wills protest he should be resting more. Although he understood, Connor wasn’t used to not working. Will had found it strange at first, that a man with so much money worked so hard, so passionately. It took him a while to realise that it wasn’t about the money, unless you counted the fact that Connor was desperately trying to prove that it wasn’t about the money. That he wasn’t affected by it. He was, just not in the way Will had first assumed he would be.

Before Connor could argue back Maggie spotted them and ushered them into the kitchen.

“Wills here, means we can finally get started on the champagne!’ Maggie exclaimed and as Will greeted everyone he heard Nat open a bottle of champagne and start pouring out everyone's glasses.

“To Connor!” Nat proclaimed and Connor shifted slightly as everyone raised their glasses. 

“To new beginnings” he said instead before drinking, everyone following suit. Almost immediately conversation broke out again, the noise and laughter so loud that Connors phone buzzing in his pocket almost wasn’t heard. Almost. Still, the conversations continued even as Connor answered the phone, stepping outside the kitchen as he did. 

He was only gone for a few minutes, but when he came back it was clear before he even said a word that something terrible had happened. His blue eyes, that occasionally reminded Will of the sea did so even more now, wet with unshed tears. His smile was completely gone and it looked like all the joy and happiness had left Connor as well. As if he had suddenly become a husk of his former self. It reminded Will far too much of the way he had looked when Will told him about his arm. Almost scared to learn the answer Will asked “what’s wrong”

Connor took a deep breath before answering in a shaky voice, “It’s my dad.”


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seems that the celebration of Connors new beginning tempted fate too much.

Connor had gone to the funeral. He’d wondered if Claire would even give him an invitation but someone had obviously decided that it would look too bad for the company if he didn’t go. So he went. Managed to drag himself out of bed and pull on a suit. Stood there amongst a sea of investors, and next to the sister he was hesitant to really label as family. And as he stood there he realised he had no clue what he was mourning.

Was it the father who was so strict and absent, and who he doubted had ever really loved him? Of course, a part of him couldn’t help but focus on the what-ifs. What if he had tried harder to reconcile with him? He hadn’t even visited him in the hospital, not really. He’d gone to see him once during the incident with the bad patch, but they had hardly spoken. Cornelius had made a slightly snide comment about the arm, about how surely Connor didn’t hate him as much as he said, and Connor had left thinking that of course Cornelius was using this tragedy to make a point. The last his father had seen of him was him turning and leaving, having barely said a word. He couldn’t help but think that maybe he should have been more patient. But at the same time, his father could have easily visited him as well, could have been kinder, more understanding, So was he really mourning this man?

Or was he mourning his arm, instead? Mourning the future he had lost, for seemingly no reason? He had been trying so hard to look on the bright side; to focus on the new future he was making for himself. But as he watched the casket lower into the ground, he couldn’t help but think that he had lost his first future in vain, and that that was what he was really burying that day. 

He didn’t stay long: he shook everyone's hands, thanked them for coming, gave Claire a stiff, wordless hug, and left. He was convinced that would likely be the last time he would ever see many of the people who had gathered for the service, and to be honest, he was glad of that fact. 

As he stripped out of his suit, letting the expensive clothes fall to the floor, he tried not to think about how empty his apartment felt. Will had stuck around for the day after he got the phone call, but Connor had kicked him out after that. It had just been too much. The way Will was constantly asking if he was okay, a question he didn't know the answer to, or asking if there was something he could do, an answer Connor did know, but it was an unhelpful ‘no’. So he’d said he needed space, time to grieve. It was mostly the truth. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but as Connor fell into bed, it felt more empty than usual, and his heart ached deep in his chest as he missed the way Will would wrap his arms around him. He missed how safe it made him feel, how it made him feel cared for, loved. 

Will was worried about Connor. He understood that Connor needed his space, he did. He hadn’t wanted to deal with anyone after his own father's death. He got it. And he had respected Connors wish to be left alone. He had tried to pour himself into his work, to not think about how weird it was to go back to his own apartment. To be without Connor. 

But then Connors physical therapist had bumped into Will at the cafeteria, asked if Connor was okay, mentioned he hadn’t been turning up for his sessions the past week. And that was one thing Will just couldn't ignore. Connor had been working so hard, and had made such good progress. He refused to let him piss it down the drain now. Not when things had been looking so good, not when they had just been celebrating his new start. 

So here he was, outside of Connors apartment, holding a bag of food because he doubted Connor had the energy to go shopping. He knew he hadn’t when his own father had passed. Anyways, it felt fitting, considering the fact that now Connor really was being hounded by the paparazzi. Will had to push through a group of them just to get inside. 

It was weird to think that not even a week had passed since the last time he was here, even though so much had changed. It no longer felt normal to be turning up at Connors apartment, his stomach instead a pit of buzzing nerves. Because he knew that he would no longer be welcomed with open arms. But he also knew that whether Connor liked it or not, he needed this intervention, so taking a deep breath he rung the doorbell. 

No response.

It was worrying, but Will tried not to jump to conclusions. Connor probably just hadn’t heard it, or he was coming and was just moving slowly. It didn’t mean anything was wrong. It didn’t. Ringing the doorbell again Will pulled out his phone to call Connor, on the off chance he was out. It rang, and rang, and rang, and went to voicemail. Unable to just keep ignoring the panic he felt Will started to pound on the door, while calling Connor again. And it rang, and rang, and rang, and was picked up.

“What?” Connor said, his voice hoarse. 

“It’s Will, I’m outside, I brought groceries” Will said, voice relieved even if he tried to hide it. 

“Just, leave it outside.”

“Really? You won’t even see me?” Will said, feeling as if he had just been punched in the gut. He knew that Connor had needed space, needed time, but this seemed too far. Too final.

“Look, I just need some time alone”

“And I understand. But I’m worried about you.”

“Why, because I’m not the loving boyfriend you wanted? I told you, Will, right from the beginning, we’re taking this slow.”

Will wanted to retort that this wasn’t taking it slow, that this was ending it completely. But he had a feeling saying those words would bring them to the point of no return. So instead he took a deep breath and tried to stick to the issue at hand. 

“Because you’re not going to your PT sessions. Come on, Connor. Just, talk to me. Not as a boyfriend, just as a friend. Please.”

There was a pause, and Will held his breath, hoping that Connor was finally going to see sense. That he was going to open the door. But then Connor said “I just need my space, thank you for the food. You can leave it outside” and Wills heart sunk. But he had a feeling pushing it right now wouldn’t be good for either of them. So, as much as it pained him deep within his soul to leave, he set the bags down, walking down the hall.

“Look, just don’t be an idiot. Keep going to PT. I know it’s hard, but you were doing so well. Don’t give up now.” Will said, before hanging up, and walking away. 

Connor went to PT, if only to prevent Will from turning up at his apartment again, acting like he knew so much more like Connor. Treating Connor like something fragile, breakable. Acting like he had any right to treat Connor that way, just because they had been edging into the territory of something more than friends. That didn’t give Will power over him. 

But nonetheless, he still did what Will said, pushing past paparazzi as he did, wishing that he had taken the time to style his hair before he left the house. Or to put on some proper clothes instead of the sweatpants and old, baggy, hoodie he was wearing. He knew that in his current state he was giving them more ammo for their pieces about him, his baggy eyes, and the way he instinctively tried to protect his injured arm from the swarm, or the gruff command for them to move that he spat out, they were all targets they were going to hit with their carefully flung words. Connor could only hope that at least this one appearance would give them enough, and that they would be gone by the time he returned. 

And that hope only grew stronger as the PT session dragged on. He had known that logically this session was going to be difficult. After all, he had skipped a few sessions. It was tough, and it just made Connor want to give up. I mean, was there really any point to doing it in the first place? He’d gotten good at manoeuvring with one arm, and it wasn’t like he’d ever get his old life back. It was something he’d gotten good at trying to ignore, the fact that he’d lost so much. But now, as he realised that he had lost it for nothing, that he had given up everything and still his father was dead, it was a grief impossible to ignore. 

And on top of that he had to deal with his physical therapist. He was sure that in any other circumstance he probably wouldn’t find his bubbly enthusiasm as annoying, in fact if they had met at a bar maybe he would have taken him home. After all, he was certainly attractive, and he was sure that he would find his enthusiasm endearing if it wasn’t in a circumstance that made it feel incredibly patronising. And even worse was the fact that he felt the need to amp up his positivity after Connor missed a session. He had correctly guessed that Connor was close to giving up, he was just incredibly wrong when it came to the solution. 

But Connor managed to make it through the session, even if he was filled with rage bubbling under the surface of his skin as he left. He just knew he couldn’t deal with the paparazzi, and he hoped that they would have left while he was gone. Maybe some other rich kid had done something more interesting than just grieve their parents. But then again, he knew from experience that the press seemed to find nothing more exciting then a person's raw grief. 

So just as he had feared, but, there was indeed still a crowd outside his apartment building. A smaller one than this morning, but still a small huddle. Almost the second he noticed them they started to rush towards him, bombarding him with questions, so many that they all overlapped, impossible to understand and becoming a wall of noise instead of coherent speech. And then there were the occasional flashes of light from the cameras, the click of their shutters reminding Connor more of gunshots. And he suddenly felt ten again, scared and mourning and angry, and all of that emotion being captured by callous men and their cameras.

Which is maybe why he said what he did, all the anger and pain that had settled deep within his bones, dragging him down, suddenly surged up within him, coming out in a tirade. A steady stream of words he doubted he could stop even if he wanted to. And he didn’t. Maybe it was rash. Maybe it would just egg them on. But, what did he exactly have to lose? And he needed them to know just what he thought of them. 

 

“You fucking vultures!” He shouted as he got closer. “Waiting for the perfect fucking story, maybe trying to catch a photo of the grieving son so you can spin some story that you’ll pray people will be stupid enough to be interested in. Something about the black sheep of the family, the son who abandoned his dad now wishing he had lived his life differently, that he had been a better son. Or do you want a different spin, something more unique. Something even darker. Because that’s what you parasites do, you feed on other people's unhappiness. So maybe you’re waiting to hear about my arm, about how I know my sacrifice was for fucking nothing, about how sometimes I wish it was me in the ground instead. God, I know how much you adore stories like that” And with his heart pounding, hammering against his ribcage, Connor stormed into the building. He knew he had fucked up, that he had revealed too much, but the roaring in his ears was so loud it drowned out his tiny voice of reason. 

Will was furious, at Connor for not speaking to him but baring his heart to journalists and at himself for feeling so betrayed. Connor had made it perfectly clear last time Will had tried to speak to him that he didn’t really care about him. That what they had meant nothing to him. But Will had been holding on to the vain hope that they were rash words coming from grief that meant nothing. 

But he couldn’t ignore the words on his screen showing that the only person Connor seemed to have a problem sharing things with was him. 

So he had rushed over to Connors apartment, only a few reporters left now that Connor had given them everything they had wanted, and he shoved away the few that remained. The entire elevator ride up Will couldn’t stop tapping his foot, full of restless energy. When he got to Connors door he started pounding, he refused to be shut out one second longer. He was going to look Connor in the eyes as he let him know how hurt he was. No more bullshit phone calls or excuses. He deserved more. 

There was no response for a while, long enough that Will almost thought about giving up. But he refused to. If Connor could talk to the reporters he supposedly hated he could talk to Will, who he had supposedly liked. 

“Connor open the door!” He shouted and it was only then that he heard a muffled sigh from the other side of the door and the slight padding of feet before the door opened and there was Connor. Will pushed down the swell of pity that he felt at the sight of Connor, who looked, quite frankly, awful. His beard was a bushy mess, as was his hair, his eyes seemed to have sunk deep into his skull, and Will was pretty sure Connor hadn’t changed clothes in the last few days. From the pictures that had accompanied the article Will had read, he definitely hadn't changed since yesterday. 

But Will reminded himself that he had come here with a mission. No matter how awful Connor felt, he still owed Will a conversation. Or, if this went the way Will feared it would, then he at least still owed Will closure. 

“I thought I told you I needed space” Connor said, voice rough and Will would have guessed it was from sleep if not for the fact that it was the early afternoon. 

“If you needed so much space then why are you talking to the people outside” Will said, voice just below a shout. 

Connor had the nerve to actually look confused at what Will said, rubbing his face tiredly and just raising one eyebrow. “What?”

With hands trembling with barely contained rage Will pulled up the article he had read on his phone. “Connor Rhodes following in his mother's footsteps? Readers may know that Rhodes’ mother committed suicide when he was only ten years old. But with the death of his father, Cornelius Rhodes, owner of the department chain ‘Dolan Rhodes’, is there a danger of his son Connor following suit?-”

“What the fuck are you reading?” Connor asked, sounding much more awake now, voice full of an unspoken warning for Will to stop, a warning he ignored. 

“Come on, we’re getting to the best bit Connor. ‘Connor Rhodes told the Chicago Sun that he deeply regretting his rocky relationship with his father stating that he wished he “had been a better son.” and went on to reveal that he sometimes wished  he was dead instead.’ Do you know what it’s like to find out from a tabloid article that your boyfriend is suicidal?” Will said, voice frantic, more panicked than angry now. 

“You can’t believe everything you read. Come on, you know how these people twist things.” Connor said and Will almost couldn’t believe that Connor had the nerve to talk down to him like that. 

“I have to believe that! You know why, because my boyfriend refuses to talk to me. I have to wait until he talks to someone else!” 

“I told you I needed space okay. And they caught me at a bad moment, I exploded, they took advantage of that. There’s no need to get so jealous of the press. And when did you start calling me boyfriend? I thought we were taking it slow. Was I asleep when we had a conversation about what we were calling ourselves?”

“No. I guess you’re right. We didn’t.” Will said, voice much quieter now. Resigned. And with that he walked away, slowly though, a tiny part of him hoping, desperately, that Connor was going to call after him. Ask him to stop, try and apologise. That somehow they would be able to save what he knew they had just lost. 


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both Connor and Will feel that they may have made a mistake.

“Okay, what’s wrong, talk to me” Natalie said, entering the break room right after Will. And while part of Will was annoyed, he also knew he probably deserved Nats questioning. After all, he had been moody and distant the entire shift, speaking in one word answers to everyone except patients. But just because she deserved her answers didn't mean he wanted to give them to her. 

“Nothing.”

Natalie just rolled her eyes at that answer. “Come on, you’ve been in an awful mood all day. It’s almost as if…” Natalie paused for a second and Will couldn’t help but tense, shoulders hunched up close to his ears. “Did something happen with you and Connor?” 

Will was about to deny it, to say that nothing was happening, that he was fine. But he knew that that would only make Nat dig further, not stopping until she finally got him to reveal the truth. And maybe it would be a good idea to get it all off his chest, maybe it would help him deal with the sadness that seemed to live in his lungs, or the residual anger still humming under his skin. 

“Yeah, something happened. I think, well I think we’re over. I think I managed to fuck things up again” Will said, running a hand through his hair.

“Oh, Will, I’m so sorry. You know I’m here if you want to talk about it” Natalie said, voice full of pity, and Will wanted to shout that he didn’t deserve it. He hadn’t just lost a father, hadn’t had his privacy invaded, he wasn't the one who deserved pity. But the part of him that was deeply grieving the loss of Connors warmth in his life welcomed it. Needed it. 

“I pushed him too much, on his dad. I just wanted to help him, and I ended up fucking everything up” Will said, with a weary sigh. He was just so tired of ruining everything good that he had in his life. 

“I’m sure if you had your heart in the right place then you haven’t really fucked everything up. You should see the way Connor looks at you. He wouldn’t just drop you like that” 

“I don’t know, Nat. You should have seen the way he looked at me then, it wasn’t just anger. I’ve dealt with his anger before. He was betrayed. I betrayed him Nat. He had just lost his father, and I hurt him even more” Will said, voice shaking slightly and he took a few deep breaths as Nat pulled him into a tight hug. 

“You must have had a reason. You have a good heart, Will. I truly believe that.” Natalie said, and it took all of Wills effort not to collapse at that. He had hurt Natalie, several times, he knew that. He hadn’t realised how much he had desperately needed her support, her comfort, her forgiveness, until now. 

“I’m sorry, Nat. For how I treated you.” Will said, voice slightly muffled, still hugging Natalie tight, until she pulled away just slightly to look him in the eyes, and if she was confused by the sudden change in subject she didn't show it. 

“It’s alright. I forgive you.” And just like that Will felt like a weight had been taken off his shoulders. “And Connor might as well, if you talk to him. Apologise, explain why you hurt him” Natalie said, and Will nodded. He wasn’t sure if Connor would be as quick to forgive as Natalie had been, but even if he wasn’t, he needed to get the guilt off his chest. 

Connor hadn’t been sure if he was actually going to go along with this meeting. When he had woken up that morning he had half a mind to cancel, send a message with his excuses and a promise to meet up later. But he'd spent the past week in his apartment, only leaving twice, once to go to PT and a second time to traipse on down to the corner store and grab some food, his fridge almost bare and what remained hadn't been edible. He felt cooped up, trapped and he knew, deep down, it would do him some good to get out of the apartment, to feel the sun on his skin and breathe in the crisp, Chicago air. And he also had a feeling that talking to Dr Latham would help bring order to the chaos that reigned supreme in both his mind and his heart. 

“Connor it is good to see you” Latham said upon seeing him, offering a hand out for Connor to shake, before a split second later seeming to remember that it would involve Connors bad arm, and switching hands. Part of Connor wanted to feel frustrated or annoyed, he could handle a handshake, he didn’t have to be babied. But despite himself a swell of warmth grew in his chest at the gesture, it was a simple one, but it showed that Latham cared about him. It was something he needed to know more than he had realised. 

“You too” Connor said, and while he had been the one to set up the meeting he wasn’t quite sure what to say. 

“I have been reading up on your injury. You should have regained a lot of your movement by now.” Latham stated, and Connor knew him well enough to know that there was a question amongst the facts. 

“Yes, things are going along well. And I’ve been looking towards the future, teaching.” Connor said, trying to muster up some of the same enthusiasm he’d had for the plan only a week ago. As it was he could just barely manage a smile, his tone flat as he spoke. 

“Teaching, that’s a good path. I think you would excel at that, you’re good with… people. You’re a good teacher” Latham said, and Connor couldn’t help but think about the few times he had tried to help Latham get on better with his surgical team and his smile became slightly more genuine.

“Thank you, it helped that I had an excellent teacher myself” Connor said, and Latham just nodded in response. Connor would have called the silence that settled between them an ordinary one, after all a lot of the time he spent with Latham was in silence, except there was a tension in the air that meant Connor couldn’t quite settle, expecting something even if he wasn’t quite sure what. 

“I read the interview you gave-” Latham said finally. 

“It wasn’t exactly an interview.” 

“Right.” Latham said, giving a small nod. “Did you mean what you said? I understand conversations like this are sensitive, you don’t have to answer” 

Connor ran a hand through his hair, not quite sure how to answer the question. 

“I’m worried about you. I do not know how I would react if I could no longer be a surgeon. It is who we are” Latham continued on. 

He wasn’t sure why he was so much more willing to be truthful with Latham than he was with Will. Maybe it was because the entire situation seemed to be less emotionally charged, Latham was his mentor, Will had been, not quite his boyfriend, but a possibility. There had been more at risk. Or maybe nothing about the situation had changed, and it was simply because of how much Connor regretted not talking to Will, even if he pretended he was fine.

“It’s been difficult” Connor admitted. “Even harder after my father died, it felt like… well like it had all been for nothing” 

“People die, our job has never been to stop that. All we can do is give them some more time, that’s what you did. You couldn’t have expected to do anything more, Connor” 

“So what’s the point?” Connor asked, and it was a question that he had asked himself several times a day since the accident and he hoped that Latham would be able to provide an answer, because he had been lost. 

“That’s what you have to decide for yourself. But it’s likely you have already found it, even if you do not know it yet” 

The conversation continued on, but Connors mind remained stuck on what Latham had said about the idea of one's purpose. He had thought he had lost it when he had woken up in that hospital bed and Will had told him that he could no longer be a surgeon. But he had managed to continue on, to continue living, so there must be more. 

And later, when he was alone, in his dark apartment, he thought back to the moments that had allowed him to keep going. They were all small, almost seemingly insignificant when taken individually, but had added up to create a burning fire in his chest that refused to go out. They were moments made up of mornings where he woke up because of the pain in his arm, and noticed that Will had his arm around him, snuggling closer when Connor tried to get up. And getting coffee with Sarah, and the way they always managed to make each other smile, and how he always felt just slightly less alone after being with her. And those quiet moments he had with Will, when they would whisper about their future, almost scared that saying their dreams out loud would destroy them. That the moment they felt real they would lose them. 

And Connor realised that he still wanted all the things they had whispered about, wanted the house together, the two of them and Kol, and maybe more people would join their family in the future. He wanted years and years worth of mornings spent waking up together, listening to Wills muffled singing in the shower, giving him a kiss as he rushed out the door for an early shift. He wanted years and years worth of evenings spent talking together, sharing stories of their days, as they cooked together, Will helping him when he couldn’t quite manage, and then going to bed together, holding each other through the night. 

He wanted them to spend their lives together, but he knew that there was so much he had to do before he could even attempt to make that dream happen. And with a sigh he got up  from his couch, opening up the curtains letting the sunshine stream in for the first time since his fathers death. 


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After trying to fix his own life, Connor tries to fix things with Will.

It had been just over two weeks since the argument. Just over two weeks since Will had walked away and just over two weeks since Connor had let him, and hadn’t given him a reason to come back. But that also meant that it had been a week since Connor had decided to change that, had decided to try and make things right. A week since Connor had decided that that meant focusing on himself first, that it meant recovering from his wounds so that he wouldn’t inflict any on Will.  And while it was sometimes hard not to think that that was all a pointless struggle, as he looked around his apartment he had to admit he had made progress. 

His bed was made and his clothes were all either in the laundry or clean and in his closet. His dirty dishes were all out of the kitchen sink and he knew if he looked in the fridge there would be actual food there. Looking at himself in the mirror the difference was also obvious. 

His hair was neat and combed back instead of a shaggy, tangled mess and his beard was neatly trimmed instead of a bushy mess. Of course there were some things that would take a little longer to change, for example there were still wine purple l bags under his eyes and he had to make an effort not to hunch his shoulders and instead take up space the way he used to. But even then it was still clear he had changed. Improved. Recovered. 

And best of all, he was slowly starting to feel like himself again as well as just look like it. The sadness and sense of defeat that had seeped deep into his bones, while not completely gone, was starting to leave. And the voice in his head that said everything was ruined and hopeless was easier to ignore. And while his arm was still a problem, always would be, it had become second nature to deal with it. 

Which is why he had made the decision to text Will to ask to talk. He hoped he would be able to make things right between them, that he would be able to get them back on track, that he would be gifted with a second chance. But he also understood that there was no reason why Will would want him back. So if this meeting only gave him closure and nothing more then that would have to be enough. 

They had decided to meet at a café around the corner from the hospital. Connor had considered meeting at the cafeteria instead, but decided against it. There were too many memories there, and if this really was the end he didn’t want to taint them with that. He wanted to only remember the good times, the many lunches together where Will managed to lift his spirits up from the deep pit they had fallen into. He didn’t want to add to those memories with one where Will broke his heart. 

Will was already there by the time Connor arrived, fingers tapping out a quick rhythm on the table as he waited. He was looking at his phone, brow furrowed, and all Connor wanted to do was to smooth out the wrinkles and frustration upon his face. He wanted to be able to make it all okay. And he was determined to do just that, he just hoped Will would listen to him. Hoped Will would give him this chance to fix his mistakes. 

“Will” Connor said to get the other man's attention and he had to stop himself from correcting to ‘Halstead’. It was weird that they had become so close and then drifted so far apart that in such a short amount of time that he had gone from Halstead to Will. He didn’t want to go back again. 

“Connor” Will said looking up and giving a tight smile. “I’m glad you asked to meet. I wanted to say, I’m sorry” he said at the same time as Connor blurted out “I’m sorry” unable to wait a second longer. 

“Wait, what are you sorry for?” Connor asked, his nose scrunching slightly as he looked at Will in confusion. 

“I shouldn’t have pushed you to talk about your father. You were going through so much, you were struggling and all I could think about was me. I was selfish.” Will said, running a nervous hand through his hair. 

“You were just trying to look after me” Connor said, taken aback by Wills words and the hint of self loathing in them, a bitter undertone to his speech. Of all the ways he had imagined today going, this was not one of them. “But… I was angry and wanted to lash out and you were my target.” Connor said. It was hard to admit his wrongdoings, but he knew he had to. 

“You had a right to be angry“ Will started to say but Connor cut him off before he could excuse his behaviour and admitted something he hadn’t even admitted to himself. 

“It felt good. Lashing out at you. It was something I could control. I didn’t want to but I enjoyed it.” Connor said voice soft, barely a whisper, but nevertheless the confession felt earth shattering. He wouldn’t be surprised if Will just left, after all who would want to stay with anyone who enjoyed hurting others. 

“I understand.” Will said and Connor raised his eyebrows, incredulous. It seemed like Will would never fail to surprise and amaze him. 

“Do you know how many times I’ve snapped at people just to feel in charge, in control. It doesn’t make you a bad person Connor. Trust me, I know you. And you are not a bad person you were just going through some bad times. And I should have been there for you then, I shouldn’t have left.” Will added, voice firm. 

“I made you leave.” Connor said, unwilling to let Will be the one to carry the guilt over his mistake. Over his failure. 

Will opened his mouth, about to say something before he paused for a few seconds finally settling on “I’m here now.”

“Yeah.” Connor said with a soft smile on his face, almost unable to believe it, even if he had hoped for it.  “I’d like you to stick around for a long time. If you want to?” Connor said, suddenly nervous even if he tried not to show it, suppressing the urge to wipe his palms against his trousers. 

Instead of giving an answer Will just leaned forward, slowly, giving Connor enough time to move back. As if he was ever going to move away from Will. Not again. And as their lips met, softly, oh so softly, it felt in many ways like coming home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally finished! Thank you to all the kind comments, they seriously kept me going as I wrote this fic, and I just really hope that y'all enjoyed it.


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